


That Would be Enough

by BrightOwl_Old



Series: Best of Wolves and Best of Witches [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, F/M, Lots of dialogue, Makeup Sex, Romance, Shower Sex, remus being a drama queen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 19:32:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7587088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrightOwl_Old/pseuds/BrightOwl_Old
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus struggles to accept his impending fatherhood.  A catalogue of the fights and encouragements that bring him home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Would be Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Again, This is territory that has been hashed and re-hashed. But here's my go at it.
> 
> Dedicated to Winged Key, whose kind comments were the encouragement I needed to finish this monster of a one-shot.

“Do I look different to you?” Tonks asked. She stood in front of the full-length oval mirror in the bedroom of the London flat she and her husband of exactly three weeks and four days shared. She had pulled her robes on in preparation for their mission to Little Whinging that evening, but let them fall open just enough to regard herself in ripped jeans and a white camisole in the mirror. 

Her husband came up behind her and placed his hands lightly on her hips. A full head taller than her, he could see her entire reflection, but looked only to her face to study her expression carefully. Was this a trap, Remus wondered. Had she altered some small part of her appearance to see if he would notice? “You always look different,” he said, carefully. 

“No, I’m trying to go back to Normal, but everything is just…more. My hair is longer than I mean it. My eyes are bluer. It’s not like I can’t change. It’s just, it’s a bit out of control. I mean, look at my tits.”

He skimmed his eyes over her clothed body. Her normally bubble-gum pink hair had indeed taken on a raspberry hue, and if he was honest, her camisole did seem to be struggling to hold in her normally petite bosoms. “They, and you, look lovely as ever,” he said, trying not to betray any enthusiasm she might take as a slight to her normal appearance. 

“Remus,” she said, meeting his eyes in the mirror, “I realized something earlier, and I didn’t think much of it, but, my, um, y’know, well, it’s-” 

“Love?” Remus smiled at her, enjoying seeing her get flustered and tongue tied. 

“I’m late.”

It took a moment for her words to sink in, and as they did, Remus felt his fingers dig into the fabric of Tonks’s robes, steadying himself as the room blurred around him. His mouth felt dry as he struggled for clarification, “Are you - Did you do the charm?”

“I don’t know it,” she said, cocking her head to the side slightly. “Do you?”

He shook his head, but otherwise didn’t move, using all of his strength to keep his composure as his thoughts rebounded wildly from their accidental unprotected congress to the horrifying implication of him fathering a child. He had been so worried that in his carelessness he had infected her. He had been so relieved, practically euphoric, when she had shown no symptoms of lycanthropy. 

But he had forgotten this possibility. That he could have done this her. To them. Them. 

How could she be so calm right now? For Remus, the world had stopped, had ended as far as he was concerned. He wanted to hide from this moment, but he held onto the idea that this was just a false alarm, nothing more than stress taking its toll. 

“I don’t really want to tell my mum just yet,” she frowned, unfazed by his silence. She turned around and grabbed his hands. “Oh! I’ll ask Molly for the charm when we get to the Burrow tonight. “

“No,” Remus said instinctively, “you shouldn’t go tonight.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said. “It would throw off the whole plan.”

“It’s too dangerous,” he said.

“You sound like my mother,” she said. “We don’t know anything for sure, and Harry is our first priority.”

“I know I can’t stop you,” Remus said, his forehead creasing, “but I don’t approve.”

“Relax, babe,” she said. “Everything’ll be fine.”

 

Everything, of course, was not fine. As the firewhisky burned his throat, Remus watched his wife swallow her drink with ease. He wasn’t about to draw attention to her, not when she deserved this small comfort, her mentor gone, her life possibly about shatter should she be pregnant with Remus’s child. 

Following an unsuccessful search for Moody’s body, Remus took Bill back to the Burrow. The house was dark, save the light in the kitchen, where Molly stood, violently scrubbing what appeared to be an invisible stain on the table, and Fleur waited patiently, nursing a cup of tea. When the door swung open, Molly rushed to her son. 

“I couldn’t sleep until you were home,” she said as she held him. Fleur made a scoffing sound.

“You should verify our identities, Molly,” Remus said, wearily. 

“I know my own son!” she said, making no attempt to keep the indignation from her voice. 

“What iz your spe-cee-al treat, cherie?” Fleur said to Bill.

“Tartare,” Bill said. Fleur gave Molly a haughty look, and escorted Bill upstairs.

“Tonks went home a few hours ago,” Molly addressed Remus. “Did you find —“

“No,” he said. “We did not find him. No trace.” When Remus was certain that Bill and Fleur were out of earshot, Remus said in a hushed tone, “Molly, did Tonks ask you anything while we were gone?”

Molly frowned, “what do you mean, Remus?”

“Did she ask you for any spells or charms?” He said. 

“Nothing comes to mind.” She appeared utterly bewildered. With Molly’s lack of subtlety, she surely would have had more than a wink or a nudge for him, had Tonks remembered to ask. 

“I need some information, and it’s imperative you don’t tell anyone what I’ve asked you. Not even Arthur,” he said. Molly brought a hand to her chest, taken aback. Remus continued, “I trust I have your complete confidence?”

“Of course,” Molly said. “What is it?”

Remus took a deep breath. “I need to know how to perform the pregnancy revelation charm.”

Molly clutched both of Remus’s arms, tears in her eyes as she regarded him. “Oh, Remus, this is wonderful, just wonderful. And so soon! What fortune. Tonks must be thrilled! Oh this is just what everyone needs right now. A ray of hope."

"Nothing's certain," he said, uncomfortable in her grasp. "The charm?"

 

Remus could hear Tonks snoring as soon as he crossed the wards into their flat. She was splayed on the bed, hair pointing in eleven directions, her turquoise dressing gown so loosely tied that her breasts and thighs were completely uncovered. Remus wondered how she could be simultaneously ridiculous and sexy even in sleep, and whether the appropriate response was to laugh or wake her up and beg for a midnight romp. 

After a quick shower, he climbed in bed beside her, carefully rolling her onto her side to make room for himself. He lay on his back, unable to sleep, watching shadows move across the ceiling as the sun rose. 

The voice of Tonks’s alarm clock chirping, You must get up and go to work, or you’ll be sacked, you lazy berk! jarred both of them at 6am. 

“Ruddy thing,” Tonks groaned, tapping the clock with her wand. She rolled over to face Remus, and snuggled against him, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“How are you feeling?” Remus said.

“Sad,” she said. “Missed you last night.”

Remus stroked her shoulder. 

“How did it go?” Tonks said. 

“We were unsuccessful. I’m so sorry, love.” 

She shook her head against him, “I just can’t believe he’s actually gone.” 

“Let me make you a cup of tea,” Remus said, and gave her a quick squeeze before sliding out of bed and into the kitchen. 

The kitchen was a tiny room off the side of the living room that, upon moving in in the days following their wedding, Remus realized had never been used during the three years Tonks lived here. Sure, the small wood table was stacked with unopened mail from the Hufflepuff Almuni Association and discarded bags from takeaway restaurants, but the cabinets were bare, excepting a few bottles of expired butterbeer in the fridge and a bargain-sized box of PG Tips on the counter.

“I’ve been in Hogsmead most of the year,” Tonks had pouted when Remus had first commented on the state of the kitchen. 

“Darling, you don’t own a pot,” Remus had pointed out. 

Tonks had shrugged and said, “I can boil water in a mug with my wand. What do I need a pot for?”

Remus had since managed to populate the kitchen with the few wares he still had, and picked up a few second-hand cooking utensils whenever he could save a few sickles by cooking instead of running out to the chippy. 

Now, he stood over the stove, waiting for the tea to brew, and looked up when Tonks stumbled to the table in her burgundy Auror robes, her wedding ring conspicuously absent. 

“You really have to go in today?” Remus said, as he placed a mug - two tea bags, two lumps, splash of milk - in front of her. 

“I’m in for a world of paperwork after last night. Let’s just hope they don’t find out I was involved.” She cracked her neck and took a sip of tea. “Fuck!” 

“Too hot?” Remus asked, startled. 

“No, fuck, I just remembered - I completely forgot to ask Molly for the revelation charm last night. Oh and I had all that Ogden’s. Damn.”

“I asked her.” 

Tonks smiled instantly, her eyes wide. “You’ve been holding out on me! Well then, let’s do it!” 

Remus hesitated. She looked so bright and hopeful, her standard grumpy morning veneer fallen to reveal an excited buzz of energy. He wanted anything but to crush her with the reality of the situation. 

“Stand up, love,” he said. “Open your robes.”

She obeyed, grinning with nervousness.

“Ready?” He said. She looked into his eyes expectantly. He pressed the tip of his wand gently against her bare pelvis. With the words, “Encentia Revelio,” a bright white disk spread from his wand tip, lighting the space between them. 

Before he could replace his wand, Tonks had jumped upon him, her legs wrapped around his waist, kissing him in warm pecks all over his head. “I can’t believe it!” She cried into his hair. “Remus, I can’t believe it!” 

He lowered her gently to sit on the table, and she pulled his head down to kiss his lips, her legs still wrapped gently around his torso. “We’re having a baby,” she said, pressing her forehead up against his. “We’re really going to have a baby. Can you believe it?”

Remus swallowed and shook his head. Images, unbidden, filled his consciousness - Tonks’s body ripped open from the inside. Tonks holding a child as it screamed in agony and transformed in her arms. Tonks as thin and broken and poor and scared as his own mother. 

Tonks ran her fingers through his hair and planted kisses along his beard. “Gods, we have horrific timing, babe,” she laughed. “Let’s celebrate tonight when I get home, yeah?” 

"You can't go to work," Remus said. 

"Remus.” She dropped her hands from his head, and her legs fell to hang limp over the edge of the table. 

"I'm serious," he said. "You can't be out in the field. Put in for a transfer."

"What do you expect me to do?” She hopped down from the table. “I’ve been hiding our marriage, I can't very well go in and say I'm pregnant and need a cushy desk job."

"You won't be able to hide forever, Dora."

"I'm actually pretty talented at disillusionment and concealment or haven't you heard?"

"Bereavement!" Remus said, as the idea came to him. "You shouldn't go in anyway."

She took a deep breath, suddenly somber. "I don't know if they know Mad-eye's been killed, and it's better for the Order if I act like I don't know anything. I promise I'll be careful." She took his hands in hers. "We need my job. Now more than ever."

"Do you relish being a poor man's wife?" Remus said bitterly.

"Please don't start that." 

He released her hands. He brushed his lips over her forehead in a perfunctory goodbye kiss and stalked from the kitchen, slamming the bedroom door behind him. 

 

Remus returned from errands that evening to find Dora asleep on the sofa, still in her Auror robes. He frowned down at her. She had spent the night fighting Death Eaters and the day doing God-Knows-What and, he though ruefully, she was pregnant. She should be relaxing safely. Protected from stress and dark magic. Could she truly protected from dark magic, he wondered, if there was a werewolf growing inside her? The very notion made him queasy. 

Her eyes fluttered open. “Wotcher,” she whispered groggily. 

“Good evening, love,” Remus said. “Do you want supper?”

She shook her head, "not hungry." 

“Do you feel ill?" he asked. "Morning sickness?"

"No," her voice quivered. "I was just… dreaming. Mad-Eye was okay. It was a mistake.” She sat up, and Remus came to her side, placing his hand on her knee. "I feel so guilty," she confessed.

“There was nothing you could have done,” Remus said. "Nothing anyone could have done."

"I know," she said, and dropping her head onto his shoulder. “It’s not that… I feel like I should be thinking about him more. But all I can think about is our baby, and I feel like I’m constantly swinging between grief and excitement. It’s too much.” 

Remus wrapped an arm around her and pulled her against him. 

“Mmm,” she sighed into him, “I can think of something that might be a good distraction.” She crept a hand up Remus’s thigh, then leaned her head back to kiss the side of his neck, just under his jaw. 

He shifted uncomfortably at the intensity of the contact. 

Without warning, Tonks swung her leg over Remus’s lap so she was straddling him. She pushed his shoulders down, pinning his back against the sofa. “Let’s just pretend there’s no war and we’re just newlyweds doing what newlyweds are supposed to do.” 

Before he had a chance to respond, she crushed her mouth into his, and he kissed her back, halfheartedly, wanting to please her but completely unenthused at the idea of sex. Could it really be a distraction now that he knew what havoc it had wrought? 

She pulled off her robes and slip and bra, and Remus reached up to squeeze her swollen breast, running his thumb over the already erect nipple. Her breath caught. “Oh wow,” she said, “I’m a lot more sensitive.”

He pulled his hand back a quarter inch. “Should I not?”

“No, do. Please, please do.” She deliberately pressed herself into his hand, then grabbed his other hand to guide it to her other breast. 

He gently repeated the swirl of his thumb across her nipples, and she bucked her hips, clad in bright yellow knickers, against him. Her eyes fluttered closed, her bubblegum pink eyelashes matching the blush of her cheeks. “I think I could come from this,” she whimpered. Remus grasped her breasts harder and began to run his thumbs in circles around her berry-brown areola, hoping that she would indeed orgasm before he had to rise to occasion. She rocked against him, her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt. “Merlin, Remus,” she moaned. “I need to kiss you.” She pushed his hands away to rake her nipples over his shirt and delve her tongue between his lips. “I need to feel you in me,” she said against his mouth. 

She stood briefly to unbuckled his belt and trousers and pull his pants off. Remus covered himself with his hands, instinctively, as if he were back in the Prefect’s bath, in the middle of a humiliating hazing ritual. 

“Slow start?” Tonks said with a gentle smile. She peeled his hands away. “It’s okay,” she whispered, taking his small, soft prick in her hands. “Nothing we can’t handle.” She fell to her knees and took his unerect member fully into her mouth, sucking it gently, while she massaged his balls with her hand, summoning his arousal. He watched, his anxiety growing with every moment his member refused to obey. 

It was all wrong. Getting his wife so close to coming, having her beg for his cock, seeing her take him beyond the hilt - all of this was his favorite fantasy come to life. He’d managed to go several rounds with this scenario on more than one occasion over the past month. And yet, this time, when Tonks needed him to pull her carnally from her grief, he couldn’t even get hard. Not even half-hard. Not even excited or interested. 

Tonks slid her mouth off of him, her hands perched on his thighs. “What’s going on, babe?” she said. 

He fell back into the sofa and turned his head away. “I’m sorry,” he said.

“Is it the baby?” Tonks said. She climbed back onto the couch, pulling her legs under her to sit on her feet. “You know sex is perfectly safe, right?” 

“Okay,” he said, standing up and pulling his trousers back on. 

“Look at me,” she said.

He turned to her noncommittally.

“Are you not attracted to me because I’m pregnant? Did my smell or something change?”

He exhaled sharply at the accusation. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not that. I’m just stressed. I don’t want you working.” It wasn’t strictly a lie, but it was certainly easier to fight about her chasing Death Eaters than to admit his concern that his singular careless decision had caused the destruction of two innocent lives. 

“I really don’t appreciate you being so patronizing,” Tonks said. She pulled her slip back on and folded her arms tightly across her chest. 

“You’re my wife,” Remus said. “I’m allowed to have an opinion on your safety.” 

“Come off it, Remus. Having a baby doesn’t make me an invalid. And since when are you so concerned about my safety?”

“Since the day I fell in love with you, and you know that.”

Tonks’s mouth twisted into a reluctant smirk. “Damn,” she said.

“What?” he said, more anger behind the word than he intended. 

“I can’t help but imagine how you’ll be as a dad when you get all over-protective like that. And then I can’t be mad at you because I’m so damn excited to hear you yell at our kids for riding their broomsticks too high or sneaking home too late. You know they’re going to be a handful, given our track records at Hogwarts.”

He huffed and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m serious,” he said quietly. “I can’t stop worrying about you.” 

“I’ll make you a deal, then,” she said. “I’m principle on Moody’s case, so let me make sure it’s in good hands, then I’ll ask Kingsley to pull some strings and get me put on MLE desk-work, okay?”

“Alright,” he said, even though it wasn’t. 

— 

As they prepared to depart for Bill’s wedding, Remus found himself sitting on the bed in his ancient, fraying dress-robes, again watching Tonks preen in the full length mirror. Her hair flowed in shimmering golden golden curls around her shoulders, her slinky velvet dress robes showing off her newly developing curves. 

“How do I look?” she asked, as she turned to him. 

“Breathtaking,” he said. 

“Good,” she said. “Because I have a surprise for you. You are looking at the Ministry’s newest legal secretary.”

He felt far less relieved than he wanted to be. He gave her a half smile and took her hand and Apparated them to the Burrow. He watched her during the ceremony, already beaming with joy, made even more radiant by Fleur’s glamour. Ever the social butterfly, she swept through the reception, laughing with the other guests, telling embarrassing stories about Bill and Charlie back at Hogwarts, licking cake frosting from her fingers. When the band began to play a slow waltz, she returned to the table where Remus sat staring into the distance, and coaxed him onto the golden dance floor. 

"Still not as good as our wedding," she said, smiling up at him as they danced. "Did I ever tell you Molly tried to pawn me off on Bill. Can you imagine me having a wedding like this? Or spending more than about 30 minutes planning it? They were engaged for over a year. What a waste of time. Not for me. Nope. Up the duff, engaged, and married in the course of 24 hours, that's much more my speed."

"Do you feel like we rushed into things?" Remus said. They swayed together as the band played softly. 

"I was joking, babe,” Tonks said. “We met when they did. And given our happy little accident, Mr Gryffindor Chivalry, you'd make an honest woman of me regardless."

He felt his brows furrow as he regarded her. "You think so?"

"You always do the right thing, and you're a right pain in the arse for it."

The right thing, he thought, would have been to have never let her into his heart in the first place. To have used protection when he had the chance. To have allowed his cursed condition to die with him without hurting anyone else. 

His moment of self-loathing was interrupted by Kingsley Shacklebolt's silver lynx breaking through the canopy and sending the occasion into pandemonium.

"Go to your parents!" Remus screamed at Tonks, looking wildly through the chaos. 

"I'm not leaving without you!" she called.

"I'll be there tonight," he grasped her wrists. "Please, please just go." 

She nodded, turning on the spot and vanishing before him. 

\---

When Remus Apparated to the Tonks's home, his wife was replacing the wards. Wards which had clearly been breached. They ran to one another and Remus clutched her against his chest, his heart racing. 

“Death Eaters?”

“Yes, from the ministry. They’re all the same now. They tortured my parents for Harry's whereabouts. They know everything, that I'm in the Order, that we're married. We won't be arrested but I don't think I'll be able to set foot inside the ministry again." 

"Your parents. Your job. I'm so sorry," Remus said as he pet her still-blonde hair. 

“I’m so glad you’re alright, Remus. Was… was anyone else-”

“No,” he said. “Everyone’s fine. Arthur’s Patronus reached Harry and they’re safe at Sirius’s old place.” 

She sighed in relief, relaxing into him. 

He followed her inside, where the Tonkses sat under a blanket on the sofa, clutching steaming mugs of cocoa.

“Mr. and Mrs. Tonks,” Remus said. “Are you alright?”

“Been better,” Ted said with a wan smile.

“Dora told me what happened,” Remus nodded. “The chocolate will help.”

“Nymphadora offered to stay the night,” Andromeda said, stiffly. “Will you be staying as well?”

“Mum!” the youngest Tonks admonished. 

“Nymphadora, I just need to know whether I should make up the spare bedroom,” Andromeda said.

“My husband will be staying in my room, Mother, because we are married.” Remus noticed his wife’s hair darken at the roots, and he could practically see her as a teenager, fighting with Andromeda over her choice of friends or looks or outfits. 

“Well I wasn’t invited to my only daughter’s wedding, so you’ll understand my confusion.” Andromeda put her mug down and got up from the couch, heading toward the kitchen. 

“‘Dromeda,” Ted sighed after her. “Sorry, love,” he said to his daughter. “It was a rough night.” He stood and nodded toward Remus, “Mr. Lupin.”

“Night, Da,” Tonks said giving Ted a peck on the cheek before he followed Andromeda into the kitchen.

— 

“I can’t stay in this house,” Remus said, once they were in his wife’s childhood bedroom. 

Ignoring him, Tonks set to work transfiguring her twin bed into one of a more suitable size for the two of them. The last time they’d been here - an unpleasant dinner to announce their marriage - he’d found himself in awe at the female, Hufflepuff version of Sirius’s room. Rugged muggle footballers covered in water and yellow and black badger tapestries on every surface. Dozens of photos of Tonks and her Hogwarts girlfriends, a catalogue of the hair styles and eyes and noses Tonks had tried on over the years. 

“Are you listening, Tonks?” He repeated, “I can’t stay here. You see what your parents think of me.”

“Well try and see it from their perspective,” she sighed.

“A monster marrying their only child -”

“Sirius Black’s best mate marrying their only child! My mum’s spent her entire life separating from her family, especially after Sirius was convicted. Her sisters and cousins are insane. Bellatrix tried to kill me a week ago, for Merlin’s sake. Do you really blame my mother for being upset when someone who’s notoriously chummy with the Blacks suddenly just appears in her house? You’re about to be a parent, Remus, can you try to be a bit more empathetic?”

“Maybe I’m not fit to be a parent, then.”

Tonks put her face in her hands. She took a deep breath and looked back up at him. “It’s always going to be the same fight, isn’t it? It’s always going to be me trying to convince you that you deserve all of this. You are enough, Remus.” Her voice was shaking, her eyes wet. 

“What about what your child deserves?” 

“My child?” Tonks repeated. She shook her head. “Fuck this. I’m the one who’s supposed to be hormonal and irrational. Not you. So just shut up and go to sleep.” 

They undressed and climbed into bed without speaking. He thought Tonks might be crying beside him, but he didn’t dare disturb her. When her breathing became long and slow and steady, he crept from the covers, found some parchment in her dresser, wrote her a note and departed into the evening.

—  
_Dear Nymphadora,_

 _I have made the decision to leave your parents’ home, and I will not be returning here or to your home in London._

_You entered into this marriage willingly, and I trusted that as an adult, an Auror, and an Order member, you knew the implications of a union with me. However, I cannot allow an innocent child to know that I willingly risked its life and the life of its mother for my own selfish desires. I cannot allow your child to lead a life of shame._

_I am humiliated by what I have done to both of you. I leave for your own good, and so that, even with the child’s condition, it will have a chance at a semi-normal upbringing, whereas I am too public a figure, too dangerous a person to trust._

_You know that I cannot provide for you, so I leave you and your parents with one fewer mouth to feed. I am certain they will support this development - I see the disgust etched upon their faces when they see me, and this will allow them to continue their lives without the stain of my reputation upon them._

_I will, of course, be available to give you guidance in caring for a werewolf, should you need it. However, I believe that with your training, you are more than equipped to mother such a child._

_I wish you well._

_Sincerely,_

_R. J. Lupin_  
—

Remus thought he would continue the only steady form of service he’d had since he was 17 years old: he would fight Lord Voldemort. It was the only thing that made his feeble existence worthwhile. And after some shady correspondence with Arthur and Kingsley and a three-day game of hide-and-seek with a Death Eater, he made it to Grimmauld Place to try to convince Harry to give him a role in the ongoing fight. 

Unfortunately, the chosen one rebuffed him. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord insulted him, rejected him, confirmed all of his fears. 

What a ungrateful child. 

To call him a coward. He was a Gryffindor, after all. Hadn't he just offered to risk his life for Harry? Hadn't he risked his life and safety to serve the order and fight Voldemort? And wasn't it truly an act of bravery to leave the one thing he loved in his life above all else, the one thing that brought him joy like he'd never felt.

Tonks was everything…

He stumbled to the Leaky Cauldron, aimless. Angry.

“The usual?” asked Tom, referring to Lupin’s preferred mead. 

“No,” Lupin said, sliding onto a stool at the end of the bar. “Firewhisky. Straight.” 

Remus took the shot, and slammed the glass down. “Another,” he said. 

Tom obliged, but upon seeing Remus wince more than a little at his second libation, he said, “You’re overdue on your tab. Here’s an ale. On the house.”

“Fine,” Remus said, taking the pewter stein. 

Remus stared into his drink, still fuming, when he was startled by the presence of an abnormally large hand on his back. 

"No need to jump, Remus," came Hagrid's booming voice. "Jus' me."

"Oh, Hagrid," Remus sighed with relief, "what are you doing here?"

"Thought I'd have a drink," he said. "Been pickin' up a few things for the school year. What about you? Didn't expect to see a newlywed on his own," Hagrid chuckled. 

"I just came from Grimmauld Place," Remus said. "Harry, Ron, and Hermione are there."

"Is it safe to go? Maybe I should—“

"No," said Remus, abruptly. "It's being completely watched by Death Eaters. I barely Apparated in and out safely."

"Ah well. The kids are alright, then?"

"Safe, yes. We were right, though. Dumbledore gave them a mission," Remus said. "They're hardly kids now, aren't they?" 

"Yer all still kids to me," Hagrid said. He ordered a tall ale from Tom and sat down beside Remus at the bar. "I remember e'rry one a ye followin' me te the boats. You were a scared little pup, weren't ye? Not like yer Tonks. She was at the front of the pack."

"You knew Tonks? When she was a student?"

"Hard to miss 'er, isn't it," Hagrid laughed. "Always changin' that hair of 'ers. Made it bright yellow soon as Minerva pulled the sorting hat off. The poor thing, she tried out for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team every year, and they finally let her sub in as a beater in her fi'th year and 10 minutes into the game, she fell of her broom and broke her legs. Carried 'er to the hospital wing m'self."

"I never knew that," Remus said. He sipped his ale, imagining his tiny bride in Hagrid’s large arms. 

"She hung around with me a lot after that. Good with the animals, you know. Would have liked to 'ave taught her Care o' Magical Creatures, too," Hagrid said wistfully. "'Course you and I started teaching together. Wish you 'coulda stayed on staff, too. Never had another like ye."

"That's very kind," Remus said. 

"Anyway," Hagrid said. "Wouldn't go back if I didn't 'ave to protect the students.”

"Did you ever consider having your own?" Remus asked, suddenly. 

"Wha', kids?" Hagrid said. "Oh, you know. Would have liked to, 'course. Never found the right woman, when I was young enough. But, it's alright. I had you lot and Harry and now I've got Grawp to look after. Y'know, saw James right in this very pub when he found out Lily was 'specting. "

"What?" 

"It was Christmas Eve, and I was in London fer a visit. James's firs' Christmas since his parents were killed, you remember. Was sobbing in a corner. Thought his life was over. Poor thing, only 19, barely outta Hogwarts. I got 'im sobered up o' course and Sirius came and picked 'im on that motorbike. He was okay after that." Hagrid took a gulp of his drink. “So how far gone is she?"

“A month," Remus said. "How did you know?"

"Jus' a sense I had when I saw you two at Harry's Birthday. And on account a ye askin' 'bout fatherhood."

Remus didn't respond. 

"Why ye so broken up? Baby's 'r a wonderful thing wot with so much death. Remember Harry and Neville comin' along? Used ter just be a joke that they'd be the next generation of Order Members. Now look at 'em! Startin' Dumbledore's Army and what not."

A warmth rose in Remus's chest as he thought of Neville and Harry, growing into their magic and strength under his tutelage, Gryffindor courage and nobility even under duress. He shook his head, trying to erase the hopefulness of the thought. "It was very irresponsible for someone with my... like me... to father a child," he said. 

"Oh, don't be silly," Hagrid said. "I've been workin' in the forbidden forest for more'n fifty years and I never heard once about a werewolf wasn't turned from a bite."

"I'm not so sure," Remus said. "Regardless, I've already made an outcast of my wife. I'd hate to do the same to an innocent child. With Dumbledore gone—“

"With Dumbledore gone," Hagrid's voice cracked, the wound still tender, "we need more great witches and wizards to fight for people like us, eh? The outcasts." 

Hagrid pulled Remus against him. He thought of James in this very position, with Sirius on his other side. 

What would they say to him if he could see him now. They wouldn't have had the same anger or derision as Harry had. They'd have been sympathetic, knowing that all Remus needed was an extra push to face his fears.

James would slap him on the back and say, “That little bugger Harry cost me my life!"

"Was worth it, wasn't he?" Sirius would agree.

"Be with your wife." James would admonish.

"Take care of your cub, Moony," Sirius would bark.

Remus leaned into Hagrid, his head spinning from the alcohol catching up to him. 

"Never be ashamed o' who ye are," Hagrid said. 

—

Remus crept into his wife’s childhood bedroom and sat on the bed beside her. 

Before he could even reach out to smooth her brow, she was awake, her wand already clutched in her hand as she slept. She held her wand at his throat. 

“Who’s there?” she said, as her eyes adjusted to the darkness.

“It’s me. Your husband.”

She didn’t budge, her wand pressing into the pulse point beneath his jaw so deeply he was sure a bruise would await him the morning. In his misguided fantasy of tearful reunion, he had forgotten, somehow, that she was Alastor Moody’s star pupil. That constant vigilance was a part of her persona as much as it was his. 

“My husband left me, so you’ll kindly excuse me for needing more proof,” she said, seriously. 

“I am the werewolf, Remus John Lupin, husband of Nymphadora who goes by Tonks. Your patronus is a wolf, as is mine. And I'm the father of your unborn child," he said.

"My patronus is not a wolf anymore," she said. “I’m not broken, I don't pine for you. I just need a reason I shouldn't curse you into oblivion." 

“I’m so sorry,” he said. He tried to convey as much tenderness and remorse as he could in the statement, hoping she could hear his desperation in his plea for forgiveness. 

“Sorry? Remus,” she said, lowering her wand, “this is the second time. Is this who you are?” She switched on the lamp on the bedside table, and in the soft light, he saw that she looked more like a the daughter of a Black than ever before, her hair in long chestnut waves, pulled into a loose knot on top of her head, her eyes dark and heavily lidded. 

“No, Tonks…Dora. I’m here now. I’m here to protect you.”

“Would you stop it with this noble Gryffindor bullshit? I don’t need your protection,” she said. “I need you.”

“Forgive me,” he whispered, hanging his head. 

“Stop,” she said. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself. I’m the one who’s been sitting here with my tortured parents, who, for the record, I haven’t told yet, for the past three days. “

“I know. I know.”

“I don’t want to trap you here. I’m barely a month gone. Remus, I don’t have to have this baby.”

“What?” his head snapped up. 

“If you don’t want this, I can end it. I’ve considered it and it might be the best option.”

“But you were so happy…” He trailed off. 

“I was,” she sighed. “But things have changed. My job’s gone, and if I’m pregnant I’ll be of no use to the Order. My parents were dragged into all this and Mad-Eye’s body is still missing, and- and then you took off. So, I’m not really sure having a baby is a good idea after all.”

“Is that what you want?” he said. 

“I think I’ve made it quite clear what I want. I want to be with you and raise a family and make a better world for our children. And I know what that means, Remus. I know the danger and the stigma that comes with, and if there’s anyone in the world who can handle it it’s me.” Her eyes were bright and blue. She was steady, not crying. She had prepared for this conversation. 

“But what about… The child’s future. It could be… It’s going to…” He struggled, unable to voice his fears. 

“In all of the ways that I’ve played this in my mind, I don’t have any concerns about what it will be or that it will be yours. I want it to be yours. But I won’t do it alone.” She softened, placing a gentle hand on Remus’s chest. “It's not that I mind being a single mum, I know there's no guarantee we'll both be here tomorrow. I told my mum and dad that you were away on Order business and you'd be back, but I won't lie to my own kid, and I won't raise a child whose dad wasn’t strong enough to care for him."

Shame seared through Remus. He hadn’t considered this. Hadn’t considered that there was a scenario where he could make this decision. He thought it had been made for him, by his carelessness, by his wife’s eagerness to be with him. 

Perhaps if there was no war and no Greyback and no empty vault at Gringott’s… And yet, Hagrid and Sirius, who were never able to have children of their own… James, who had the greatest gift in the world and was never able to see him grow up… To deny himself that one thing… 

“I want this baby,” the words spilled from him.

He looked into Dora’s eyes. Trained not to betray emotion in an intense interrogation, she was still waiting, not ready to betray joy or relief. Still unsure whether this was the end of the discussion. 

"I'm frightened," he confessed. He stroked her face. "Dora, I'm frightened in a way I've never been in my life. But I choose you. I choose our child. I'll make the unbreakable vow if I must." 

"I don't want you do that," she said. “I’m not afraid. I just want you to wake up every morning and remember that you had a choice. And so did I. And this is what we both chose.” A smile hinted in her eyes, and she pulled him down to kiss her, softly and warmly.

And suddenly, he was crying, weeping more desperately and earnestly than he had in the Shrieking Shack the night their child was conceived, grasping his wife’s shoulders beneath him as if they were a life-raft, kissing his own tears from her face as he crushed his lips against her cheeks and mouth. 

He laughed as he sat up, wiping his tears on the sleeve of his sweater. “I cry too much for a grown man.”

“It makes your smile that much better,” she said.

"I really am so sorry, love” he said, resting his hand against her abdomen, unconsciously protecting the nearly invisible being within. 

"What happened?" she asked. "Who do I have to thank for getting you back here? You smell like a drunk hippogriff - Merlin, your robes are covered in butterbeer. You didn't just go sit at the Leaky Cauldron for three days, did you?”

”I did something you might call, what was it, 'noble Gryffindor bullshit,’” he said, grimly. “I offered my protection to Harry, but he knew better than accept it. He called me a coward, actually."

"Of course he did," Dora laughed. "What's that they call him? Our greatest hope? Remind me to owl him my thanks. Now go take a shower, your smell is nauseating.”

“I missed you, too,” he said, kissing her on the forehead and retiring to the small washroom attached to her bedroom. It too was an ode to teenaged Tonks, spilled and solidified bottles of nail polish and hair gel littering the sink, with a magenta shower curtain over the tub. 

He turned the shower on, undressed, and stepped in as the water warmed. He stepped under the spray and allowed the water to slide through his hair and over face and skin. He heard the door open. 

“Love?” He called. 

Dora jumped into the shower, a whirl of flesh before him.

Her hand stretched toward him, and he instinctively took it, pulling her against his body, her pile of brown hair tickling his chin. They stood under the shower head, kissing sloppily, hardly able to breathe with the water cascading over them. 

She grabbed an almost-ancient bottle of shampoo, and squirted it onto Remus’s hair before reaching up and working it into a lather. Her fingers on his scalp sent shivers throughout his body, and he squeezed his eyes shut to avoid the sting of the suds in his eyes. She pushed his head back so that the shower rinsed his hair, and the heat and her touch a stark contrast to the cold, loneliness that had plagued him his three days on the run. 

He was jolted aware by Dora’s sudden squeal of delight. 

“My friend is back, too!” and before he could ask what she meant her slippery, soapy hands were sliding up and down his throbbing erection. 

He bucked against her and laughed, then, a rumbling laugh, and she laughed, too, and suddenly they were smiling and laughing and dripping wet, as if the past week was down the drain with the scent of dirt and alcohol on his skin.

“I love you,” he said, his voice deeper than he’d intended, gravelly from disuse in the three days he’d been on the run, “and I want you.”

She made a tsking sound with her tongue against her teeth. “I think you need a bit more washing, first.”

“Oh, do I?” 

“Mmmm-hmmm,” she said as she continue to slide her hand over his shaft. She grabbed a bar of soap from soap rack on the side of the tub, and wet it before sliding it over his chest and shoulders. She ran the bar down each of his arms and commanded him to put his hands up before she cleaned his underarms, pausing only to tickle him, and he grabbed her waist in protest. She knelt and soaped his thighs and knees and feet and spent at least a minute using her hand and the bar of soap to massage his balls and perineum. 

She turned him around, and worked her way up his back, pressing her hips against his bottom as she stood and reached around to stoke his cock once again. He braced himself against the tiles of the shower. 

“Dora…” her name felt like heaven on his lips after just a few days apart. “Dora…” 

Her strokes were slow and steady and slippery, the bar of soap discarded, her technique perfected in the month of marriage and year of playful fucking before their legal union. She started at the base and pulled upward, taking his foreskin over the head, and slowly rolling it down with each movement. He was unsuccessful in his attempt to keep still, unable to stop himself from thrusting into her soft and steady hands. 

“You want to fuck me, don’t you, Remus?” she said against his back, only water between them. 

“Yes,” he moaned. 

“No protection anymore,” she said. 

He froze, pulled from the feeling for a moment by the implication of what she was saying. He spun around, feeling the shower pound against his back. He took her face gently in his hands, cupping her jaw in his palm. He searched her eyes. “You’re not afraid,” he whispered. 

She merely nodded, then dropped to her knees and took him again in her mouth. She sucked with abandon, pulling him all the way to the back of her throat with each bob of her head. The intensity of sensation led Remus to reach over his head with one hand to grab onto the arm of the shower head to steady himself, and place one hand on the back of Dora’s topknot to slow her down. 

As soon as he touched her, Dora looked straight up at him, her irises glowing azure, and suddenly streaks of gold and violet and teal appeared in her previously dark hair. He’d only seen her hair and eyes do that once before - the first time he’d made her come. And now she was pulsing with color and light - a rainbow in her hair and sunbursts in here eyes - from giving him pleasure. 

“Dora I’m -“ but before the words were even out he was coming into her mouth, grasping her hair to try and pull her away from his explosion but she was holding him tight, greedily gulping his seed. 

He pressed a hand against the side of the shower for balance. “Why?” he gasped as she used his body to climb to standing. 

“You’re not poison,” she said. 

He leaned down to kiss her, and he could taste the saltiness of his cum mixed with the bitter soap and his wife’s tender sweetness. “I’m not a young man, you know” he said. “I don’t think I’ll be able to go again.”

“No rush,” she said, turning the water off, and releasing her hair from its tie on her head, so it could drip down her back. Remus slid his fingers into it and she closed her eyes as he tipped her head back. He kissed her lips, nipping droplets that slid down her forehead and cheeks. He licked the trail of water from her neck, his tongue trailing up to the spot behind her ear that made her squirm. 

He pulled the shower curtain back and pulled a towel from the hook to wrap around his wife. She shrieked with laughter as he used the opportunity to pick her up and carry out of the tub. She held his neck as he placed her on the edge of the counter beside the sink, the towel falling free to provide a cushion of warmth under her. Remus withdrew his wand from discarded trousers and cast a cursory drying charm on himself before taking a knee on the bathmat in front of Dora. 

A knowing smile crossed her lips as she leaned back on her hands and opened her legs for him. He placed his hands gently on her thighs before he buried his face against her, placing warm wet kisses along her seam. He breathed her in and used his tongue to gently open her inner lips. 

“You do taste different,” he murmured against her. “Divine.” He trailed his tongue once up and down, then pressed it as deeply into her opening as he could reach. He wanted to lick her inside and out, taste every bit of her. He slid his tongue in and out slowly and deliberately, pulling her own wetness and his saliva up to wet her clit before he swirled the tip of his tongue around and around and around it until she was mewling, her head thrown back in ecstasy. Digging into her thighs with his fingers, he held her still and resisted the urge to press his fingers inside her. He wanted, needed, to feel her get off on his mouth. 

Suddenly, Dora’s legs squeezed together and she arched forward, grasping his hair in hands, holding him in place as she practically sobbed his name. He held the flat of his tongue against her throbbing clit until she relaxed her hold on him. Remus pressed his face into her thigh, her flesh hot and soft against his beard. 

As he pulled himself to standing, he realized he was already hard again, painfully aroused after giving his wife such a strong and spectacular orgasm. She grasped his buttocks and pulled her against him, and he slipped inside without resistance or hesitation. 

“Home,” he said against her mouth as they kissed, hands on one another’s necks, both demanding closeness. “This is home.”

He thrust in and out with as slowly as he could, her tight wetness beckoning him forward. One hand trailed down over her breast, and she cried out as he squeezed her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Her scream of pleasure shot straight to his groin and he felt himself drive into her, losing control, his legs snapping against the cool tile of the counter with each movement. 

She pulled his head to hears and breathed in his ear, “come in me, Remus, fill me up.” 

“Yes!” he cried as his orgasm overtook him for the second time. “IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou.”

His arms wrapped tightly around her, he pulled her as tight as he could against his body, knowing he would slip out as his member softened, but wanting to preserve the closeness of being inside her as long as he possible. He could feel her heart beating against his.

“I never want to hurt you again,” he breathed as he kissed her hair and rested his cheek against her head. 

After a few minutes, Dora slid off the counter and used Remus’s wand to clean them up. Remus held her shoulders and said, “Do you forgive me for running?”

“Not yet. But I will,” she said. “Do you forgive me for considering, y’know,” she looked to the side, avoiding eye contact, “terminating?”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Dora,” he said. “We can’t deny that we rushed into everything. It’s alright to slow down consider all of our options. I’m glad you did. It makes our choice to start a family all the more meaningful.” 

“Starting a family,” she smiled up at him. “I can’t wait to meet your baby.”

“My baby?” he said raising an eyebrow. “You know something?”

“Hmm?” 

“This is my favorite moment. More than our wedding night or even when you agreed to marry me. This moment… how lucky we are.”

She smiled and laughed in his arms.

“What’s so funny,” he said, nuzzling his nose against hers.

“A werewolf and an ex-auror on the wrong side of a Voldemort decide to have a baby. We’re pretty much fucked aren’t we?”

“If we stay alive,” he said. “That will be enough.”

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: The title of this story - and the others in the series - is from the musical Hamilton. (And if you haven’t, do yourself a favor and listen to it!).
> 
> Join me on tumblr @brightowl !


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